Boulevard of Broken Dreams
by Kiaran Dryaalis
Summary: Harry is put into Slytherin house. Of course, Snape has a problem with this, since Harry reminds him of James, the one he once had a crush on. [DracoxHarry, HINTS of SeverusxJames]


_**Author's Note: **I know, I should REALLY be working on my two Kingdom Hearts fanfics, as well as my older fics that I haven't finished yet. However, I really, really wanted to get this started. I've been putting this off for several, several months and just could not resist working on it anymore. Oh, yeah. Totally snagged the title from Green Day's song. Because I love it and it will eventually hold some importance to the plot.  
__**Warnings:** This fic shall contain some yaoi, much OOCness (it is an AU; I'm going to be changing some personalities to fit the situations. If you don't like it, don't read this), two OCs, and I screw over the entire original story several times. Bite me.  
__**Disclaimer:** Unless JK Rowling is a really a nineteen-year-old college girl with no money to her name, I'm not her. Thus, I don't own these characters, except for the two I created, one of which isn't really all that important._

Chapter One

Green eyes opened in the darkness of the cupboard beneath the stairs. A hand reached up and mussed already messy raven hair. A yawn escaped pale lips and the boy to whom the green eyes, the hand, the messy hair and the pale lips belonged to sat up in his small bed. Harry Potter stretched, his arms hitting the short ceiling of his diminutive bedroom as he did so, and climbed out of bed. He changed carefully into clothes that were many sizes too big for his slight frame, put on his glasses, and opened the door. Breakfast was already cooking, but that didn't matter to Harry; his cousin, Dudley, would probably have already eaten both his and Harry's share of it.

Harry sighed. Before he closed the door, he grabbed the small pencil that lay next to his mattress and scratched off that day's date. There were only a few days left before school started again. September first was coming up too quickly.

"Potter!" Harry's uncle, Vernon, shouted. "Fetch me the morning post, boy!"

"Yes, sir," Harry mumbled in mid-yawn.

Trudging to the door, Harry saw the usual letters fall unceremoniously to the floor through the mail flap. He bent down to pick it up and went through it, carefully sorting it into small piles; one for Uncle Vernon, one for Aunt Petunia. Today, however, there was a letter that was neither for Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia. Nor was it for Dudley. This letter, large and slightly yellowed, was addressed to Harry.

Knowing from a past incident involving a bizarre mistake in deliverance and a letter had been sent to Harry, the boy knew that this was a disaster waiting to happen. Aunt Petunia had gone berserk until Uncle Vernon realized that the letter was addressed to a Harry Potter in Dorset. When Aunt Petunia had adequately calmed down, she got in the car and took the letter back to the post office. Uncle Vernon had sentenced Harry to a week in the cupboard with nothing but toast and weak tea as meals for the trouble the letter had caused.

Harry slipped the letter between his jeans and the belt that held them up, hiding it underneath the shirt he wore. He would take a look at it later. But for now, he would have to keep it hidden from his aunt and uncle and, especially, from his cousin. God knows just how much trouble he would be in if they found the letter.

With the letter safely hidden, Harry returned to the dining room, handing Uncle Vernon his section of the post and the rest to Aunt Petunia. Taking his seat, Harry ate what was left of his breakfast (Dudley having eaten his sausages and half of his eggs). He waited while the others finished their own meal, as was rule in the Dursley household. When Dudley, Petunia, and Vernon had all left the table, Harry slipped off into his cupboard and pulled out the letter. He looked at it, hoping that it was truly addressed to him and not the Harry Potter in Dorset again.

There, on the envelope, was the exact address where Harry lived, including the words "Cupboard under the Stairs." Excited, Harry ripped the envelope open and unfolded the letter. There was a coat of arms at the top of the letter, bearing the words "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." Bewildered now, Harry read through the letter.

It was hard to believe. The letter was an invitation to attend this school, Hogwarts. Harry was fascinated by the mere thought of a school such as a school of witchcraft and wizardry. However, he was wondering why he, of all people, would be invited to this school. It sounded so implausible to him. What was so special about him, for him to be invited to a school of witchcraft and wizardry? It seemed that one would need to be able to use magic to attend, but Harry had never once in his life used anything close to magic. Had he?

The letter ended with the words "we shall send someone to pick you up at eight o'clock sharp tonight. Be ready."

It was signed "Albus Dumbledore."

Harry set down the letter and stared at the wall in front of him for a few minutes. Someone was coming here to pick him up at eight o'clock tonight. They would be taking him away from the Dursley house, if only for a while, it seemed.

He glanced at his watch. It was 10:15 am.

* * *

Several hours passed. Harry had not told the Dursleys anything about the contents of the letter, much less of its existence. And Harry considered it a blessing that they had gone out for dinner, leaving him with nothing but a bowl of lukewarm broth to eat. With a glance at his watch as he ate, he saw that it was nearing eight o'clock. He had a little more than ten minutes until the representative from Hogwarts would arrive.

Harry had decided that he might as well look decent for the meeting. Of course, his definition of decent was clothes that fit only a tad bit better than his usual attire. It was very difficult for him to find clothes that fit him, unless he went to the very back of Dudley's closet and found clothes from when his cousin was eight. Harry had no clothes of his own; the Dursleys never bothered to give him anything more than clothes Dudley had worn no more than six months previously. So, of course, his pants were four or five sizes too wide and his shirts were more tunics than shirts and hung off one shoulder at all times. His shoes were really the only things that truly fit him.

With one final glance at his watch, Harry saw that it was about thirty seconds until eight. He held his breath, watching the second hand as it progressed to the silver twelve at the top of the face. The moment the second hand touched the number twelve, the doorbell of number five, Privet Drive rang. Harry ran over to the door and opened it.

Outside, an Asian woman in her late twenties (maybe early thirties) stood on the porch. Her hair was black, with two dark blue streaks, which looked to have been previously bleached, framing her face and the rest of her hair in a loose bun. Her wardrobe was a bit odd; she wore black jeans, a vivid purple sweater and an indigo blue cloak. Her piercing blue eyes looked into Harry's and a serious look dawned onto her face.

"Is this the residence of Harry Potter?" the woman asked.

"Yes," Harry replied. "I'm Harry Potter."

"Ah. Professor Dumbledore asked me to pick you up to get your school supplies and give you your ticket," the woman told him. "I'm Professor Daboecia. Call me Xian, if you like."

"A professor at Hogwarts?"

"Yes, though you won't be seeing me for a while," she said. "I teach seventh years who are interested in joining the Ministry of Magic. But we need to hurry, Mr. Potter."

"Oh, yes," Harry said.

"We'll be going to London by Muggle ways, of course," Xian told him. "It's easier to deal with this late at night." Her voice lowered to an annoyed tone of a whisper. "Bunch of weirdoes on the Knight Bus at this hour."

"Muggle?"

"None magic. You know, train, bus, car…" the professor told him. "I've got my car parked just over there."

"You're a witch and you drive a car?" Harry asked.

"Would you rather walk, kid?"

"No," Harry replied, quickly. "I'm sorry."

"I may be a witch, but magic transportation just isn't my cup of tea," Xian said, leading Harry to her car. "Well, get in."

Harry nodded and opened the passenger side door. He sat down as the professor got in and put the keys into the ignition. Xian started the engine; the CD player went on, playing some kind of Chinese rock music. The professor shifted gears and hit the gas, singing along to the music as she did so. Harry held onto whatever he could to keep from flying out the windshield.

Xian had one helluva lead foot.

* * *

Once in London, the professor parked outside a store and let Harry out, seeing as the boy seemed to be glued to his seat. Sweat on leather tends to do that. Happily, Xian skipped over to a shady bar across the street after locking up her car. Harry followed along, trying to calm his speeding heart as he did so. The professor opened up the door to the bar and told Harry to hurry up.

"But Professor, I'm underage," Harry protested.

"Oh, we're just going through to the back, Harry," Xian said. "I'm not going to buy drinks." She held up her left wrist, where a silver bracelet hung. "I can't with this on. Dumbledore put it on me to keep me from straying from the job of getting you ready for school."

"So, what does it do?" Harry asked as he followed the professor inside.

"It shocks me if I get too close to alcohol."

"Hey, Xian!" the bartender called over. "Welcome back! You want your usual Hop-Skip-and-Go-Naked, tonight?"

"Gods, Tom," the professor said. "As tempting as it is, Dumbledore's got me on watch. I need to get Harry here his school supplies."

"My god, is that Harry Potter?" Tom asked.

"The one and only," Xian said.

Harry blinked. People all over the bar came around him, introducing themselves, shaking his hand, asking him how he was. One person in particular came over, bringing with him an odd aura. He approached Harry and introduced himself as Professor Quirrell. Xian glared at the other professor.

"What do you teach, Professor?" Harry asked Quirrell, curiously.

"D-defense Against t-the D-dark Arts," Quirrell replied. "It's such a f-fascinating subject."

"Yeah, yeah, Squirrel," Xian said. "We all know you love the subject. Just get married to it already."

"S-still the same rude little s-snob, aren't you, X-Xian?"

"Yup. And you're still the same jittery little git you always were in school. Now get out of my way. I need to get Harry to Diagon Alley."

Quirrell gave Xian a small glare, but allowed the woman to push past to the back of the bar, with Harry following. Once outside, Xian pulled out a wand and tapped it against the brick wall in front of them. The wall shifted and opened to reveal a street filled with people. Harry blinked.

"Wow…" he breathed.

"If you think this is impressive, wait until you see what it's like during day hours," the professor said. "Now, come on. We must hurry to the inn where we'll be staying overnight."

"Y-Yes, ma'am."

Xian turned to Harry. "You don't have to be so formal, Harry. I don't mind it if you call me by my first name and you don't have to call me "ma'am," either. It makes me feel old. Got it?"

"Y-yes."

Xian smiled. "Good. Then let's get ourselves over to the inn."

* * *

The next morning, Harry woke up on a firm, but very comfortable mattress. It was a welcome change to the thin mattress he had been sleeping on for the past several years. The fluffy, goose feather pillow was nice, too, compared to the flat, dirty, gray throw pillow that had been the only thing between his head and the mattress when he slept. A luxurious green comforter covered his body and he hesitated to crawl out of bed, fearing that everything would go away if he moved.

"Hey, outta bed, Harry," the voice of the professor who had come to get him last night called. "We gotta make a few rounds before we can send you off to school, you know."

Harry shifted, reached over to the bedside table and slid his glasses onto his face. He sat up and looked over where Xian stood in her jeans and sweater, smirking at him. He crawled out of bed, still dressed in the clothes he had put on the night before. He slipped on his shoes and quickly tied them, then followed the professor out of the room.

"First things first," Xian said. "We need to get your money. So, off to Gringotts!"

After the trip to the wizarding bank, Xian led Harry around Diagon Alley, to multiple shops to get his school robes, his books, his quill and parchment, etc. One of their final stops was Ollivander's, to pick up the most important thing on his list; his wand. The owner of the shop was most pleased to see Harry and quickly helped him to find the wand he was destined to have.

"Curious," Ollivander said, once said wand was found. "Very curious."

Harry blinked. "Excuse me, sir. But what's curious?"

"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter," the old man said. "It is curious that you should be destined for this wand, when its brother…gave you that scar."

Harry stared at him in shock. He turned to Xian. "Is…is that true, Professor?"

Xian hesitated. "Harry, why don't we discuss this later? We still have a couple more stops to make before we go back."

Confused, Harry followed Xian out of the shop after paying for his wand. Xian took Harry over to another shop and led him inside. Harry looked around and saw multiple owls, cats, and other animals inside. He looked questioningly at Xian. The Chinese woman smiled at him.

"Go on," she said. "Pick one out."

"What for, Professor?" Harry asked.

"Owls are great for sending out letters," Xian explained. "They're very intelligent creatures and will follow your command when they are asked to fly out a letter."

"Mail service?"

"Exactly. Now go on, pick your owl. Think of it as a late birthday present."

Harry walked around the shop, looking at every owl, wondering which one to choose. Eventually, he came across a snow-white owl. He reached out cautiously to pet the fluffy white feathers. The bird hooted softly and playfully nipped at his fingers. Harry smiled and turned to Xian.

"This one," he said.

"Wonderful choice, Harry," Xian smiled.

The shopkeeper came over with a cage for the owl and brought her over to the counter. He smiled at Harry, and then turned to Xian.

"Hello, there, Xian," he said. "Here for a new collar for Mao?"

"Yeah, right," Xian laughed. "You know he'd just chew through it like he's done to the others."

"He getting' along with Ling alright?"

"Yes, yes. Could you tell me how much for the owl?"

"Thirteen galleons, please," the shopkeeper said.

Xian pulled out the requested price and paid for the bird. Harry carried the cage as they headed out of Diagon Alley. She had Harry wait in the Leaky Cauldron under Tom's watch as she got her car. Once everything was put in the back, Harry got in and they headed out of London.

* * *

"What is this?" Xian asked, seeing a number of large black trash bags on the side of the road outside the Dursleys' house.

"I don't know," Harry said. "But I don't like it."

Xian parked in front of the Dursleys' house and got out with Harry. The two of them headed up to the front door. Harry knocked on the door when he found it was locked, not having a key to the house. A few moments passed, then the door unlocked and Petunia stuck her head out. She glared at Xian, and then let out a short yelp of anger when she saw Harry. She slammed the door closed in the boy's face.

"Hey!" Xian exclaimed. "Open the door!"

Harry heard a few muffled phrases through the door, then it opened and Vernon stepped outside.

"Who are you?" he demanded. He glared at Harry. "What the bloody hell are you doing back here?"

"He lives here!" Xian said.

"No, he doesn't," Vernon countered. He was already turning red in the face. "He left last night and we will not let him back in."

"You're kicking me out?" Harry asked in disbelief. Sure, he hated living with the Dursleys, but if they kicked him out, he had no where to go.

"You ran away, boy!" Vernon exclaimed. "You've gone and left on your own free will and we're not going to allow you back in our house if you're just going to throw away the hospitality we offered."

"Hospitality!" Harry shouted. "You call that hospitality! You locked me in the cupboard for eleven years!"

Harry was thrown back as the back of Vernon's hand struck his face. He landed on the lawn with a pained cry. Xian whipped out her wand, grabbed Vernon by the collar and threw him against the wall, pointing her wand at him.

"That," she said, coldly, "is child abuse and I will _not_ stand here and pretend it didn't happen.

"Unhand me, woman!" Vernon demanded. "I shall have you dragged off by the police!"

Xian's eyes narrowed. "I haven't done anything to you, yet. You, on the other hand, have laid your hands on a defenseless child. I could have you thrown in jail for that."

Petunia came to the door and let out a gasp at the sight of the Chinese woman who held a wand to her husband's throat. She ran over to the phone and picked up the receiver. Xian glanced at her, pointed her wand in the direction of the phone and uttered a couple words. Petunia let out a scream as the phone flew out of her hand and smashed against the wall.

"Now," Xian said, turning her wand back to Vernon. "You will let Harry retrieve his things…"

"They're not in the house," Vernon said, frightened now that he knew the woman's wand was not something to be trifled with. "We tossed them out this morning."

Xian let out a growl and threw Vernon back into the house. "This is unforgivable." She turned to Harry. "Grab your stuff; we're heading back to London."

"I'll have you arrested for this!" Vernon shouted to Xian's back.

Xian didn't turn around. She raised her hand and flipped him off over her shoulder, picked up a couple of the trash bags and threw it into the trunk of her car. Harry grabbed a couple other bags and got into the car. Xian buckled up, told Harry to hold onto his owl, and stepped on the gas. Once they were far enough from the Dursleys, Xian slowed down and drove towards London once more.

"Now where am I going to go?" Harry asked. "If they won't let me live there, where am I going to stay?"

"For now, we're going to go back to the Leaky Cauldron and stay in one of the rooms Tom's got upstairs," Xian told him. "I'll send a formal request to Dumbledore and then we'll see."

"Will…will I be sent to an orphanage?"

"I don't know," Xian sighed. "Dumbledore might convince one of the professors to take you in during the summers. It depends on which house you get Sorted into."

"Houses?" Harry asked. "Sorted?"

"Mind if we take the scenic route to London, Harry?" Xian asked suddenly. "You don't have to be to the station until noon tomorrow. This way, I can tell you more about the wizarding world. You're probably very curious."

"Actually, I am," Harry said.

Xian smiled. She began telling him about the world he belonged to. She told him about the Ministry of Magic, about the wizarding sport of Quidditch, and about the school.

"There are four houses at Hogwarts," she said. She took one hand off the steering wheel and began to count off the houses. "Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Griffindor. All of them were named after the founders of the school and each one has a different animal to represent it. Griffindor has a lion, Ravenclaw has a raven, of course, Hufflepuff has a badger, and Slytherin is symbolized by a snake."

"What houses were my parents in?" Harry asked. "They went to Hogwarts, didn't they?"

"Lily and James?" Xian asked with a laugh. "Of course, they did! They were just a couple years higher than I was!"

"You went to school with my parents? Can you tell me about them?"

"Oh, they were so different from each other! Surprised the lot of us when Lily and James started dating! James was in Griffindor, a trouble-maker, barely passed his classes, but damn, did he play Quidditch like the best of them! You look just like him, you know. 'Cept for those eyes; those are just like Lily's."

Harry smiled. "What was my mom like?"

"Lily was one of the smartest, prettiest gals in the school," Xian smiled. "Good grades, sweet as anything, all the underclass girls liked her and wanted to be like her." She paused. "Well, not all of them, but she was pretty well liked."

"Did you like her?"

"Yeah, I did. She was nice and all. The only thing I didn't like about her was that she always reported me when I broke a rule," Xian's grin got wider. "Prefects are like that, of course."

Harry nodded. Xian continued to tell him about his parents and about Hogwarts until they reached London. By that time, it was getting late and Harry had fallen asleep, leaning against his door. Xian looked over and smiled at the Boy Who Lived. She ruffled his hair and parked in a parking garage not that far from the Leaky Cauldron. She stepped out, went around the car, and lifted Harry out of the car. She grabbed Hedwig (as Harry had named her on the way to London) as well, locked her car up and went over to the Leaky Cauldron to ask Tom for a room for the night.

She would take Harry to the train station the next day.

_**Author's Note: **Yeah, okay. This moved a bit fast, but I wanted to establish that Harry would not be living with the Dursleys anymore after this. I'll solve the problem of where he'll be staying when the time comes. For now, I've got a lot of other stories to finish and should really be getting back to them. Reviews are appreciated and likely to be replied to if you have questions. Flames will be laughed at._


End file.
